My Montana
by Ciara in cotton socks
Summary: In the aftermath of Ruben's death, Danny is in a bad place. Can Lindsay help him through it, or will he oush her further away? And can their relationship survive this obstacle? Sorry, really bad summary,bbut please please please read and review!


**My Montana**

**A/N:This story is set just after Ruben's death, with one major change to the plot: DANNY DID NOT SLEEP WITH RICKI! Just thought I'd make that clear… And apologies, it does get very fluffy towards the end, but if you like it, I'd really appreciate a review…**

**DISCLAIMER:I do not own CSI:NY or any of the characters *sigh* but I wish I did!**

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Lindsay Monroe woke to the sound of her phone ringing. A quick glance at the illuminated digits on her alarm clock told her that it was 5:34 a.m. Wondering who on earth would be calling at this hour, she forced her weary eyes open and fumbled for her cell, sitting on her bedside table beside a new paperback romance and a half-full glass of water. Lindsay flipped the phone open and felt her heart leap at the sight of Danny's name flashing on the tiny screen.

_Thank God, _she thought, relieved. She'd been going crazy with worry ever since she had heard the news about Ruben Sandoval. Though she knew it was cruel, she wasn't worried about the kid's mom. She could only think of Danny. He adored Ruben. That boy was the closest thing to a son Danny had ever had. He must be distraught. He had been underground for almost five whole days now, without contact with anyone. She had no idea where he was, how he was, if he was eating or sleeping… He wouldn't let her in. She had called so many times, but to no avail. Lindsay knew everyone else at the lab had called him too, but they had just as little success as her. And that worried her. He couldn't possibly be coping.

The look on his face that day in the lab, when he had seen the tiny, lifeless body… She shuddered at the memory. It wasn't the face she knew so well, the cocky, sweet face. It was defeated, broken. The face of a man on fire.

"Hey you," she said softly, her voice husky with sleep. "I've been hoping you'd call, how are-"

"Is this Lindsay Monroe?" an unfamiliar male voice asked.

"Yeah- I mean yes, it is," Lindsay replied, feeling confused. "Who's this?"

"I'm Finn Lawrence, I run Finn's on 54th. You know it?"

"I do… Look, I don't mean to be rude or anything, but what the hell's going on?"

Finn chuckled, a low bass gurgle. "I've got your friend here, he's not looking so good and there's no way he's getting home by himself. You were the first person on his speed dial… I can call someone else if…"

"No, no it's fine," interrupted Lindsay, sitting bolt upright, all thought of the lateness of the hour forgotten. "I'll be there in ten minutes. Thank you."

She snapped the phone shut and scrambled for some clothes. A feeling of deep unease bubbled sluggishly in the pit of her stomach.

_Oh Danny,_ she thought sadly, shrinking into her jacket as she hailed a cab. _What did you do?_

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Finn's Tavern was a loud, hot place filled with cigarette smoke and sweaty, angry drunks, even though it was well past closing time. Pointedly ignoring the leers and catcalls of the many intoxicated patrons, Lindsay had a strong urge to call Flack or somebody else on duty to come and arrest someone. There must be a hundred different crimes being committed here.

Grimacing and longing for the gun sitting in its holster in her closet, Lindsay struggled through the hordes of yelling men with great difficulty. Scowling furiously, she made her way over to the bar, where a ruddy, bearded man in a Metallica t-shirt was cleaning a glass with a rag. Lindsay noticed several painful-looking piercings and an anchor tattooed onto his forearm.

"Are you Finn?" she shouted over the din.

"Yup. I take it you're Lindsay? We don't get a lot of pretty girls like you in here," Finn explained.

"Really?" Lindsay couldn't disguise the exasperated sarcasm dripping form her voice. "Look, where's Danny?"

"Your friend's over there," Finn indicated with a fat thumb. "He's been trying to stir up trouble all night. I only didn't throw him out cos I felt sorry for the guy. He's pretty messed up."

Lindsay followed his gaze to where Danny was being pinned to the pool table by two burly, red-faced guys. One of them had him by the scruff of the neck, while the other had his hand drawn back in a tightly clenched fist, ready to punch him. Lindsay hurried over to prevent things getting out of hand.

"Hey guys," she piped up, sounding much breezier than she felt. "How about you let this idiot go, and I'll buy you a couple of rounds to apologize for his behaviour, yeah?" She held out a wad of notes to show she was genuine.

"I dunno… He's got a damn smart mouth on him," one of the two said slowly.

"He's an idiot," Lindsay repeated. "Please. I don't want any trouble."

And miraculously, they agreed. Breathing a sigh of relief, Lindsay hauled Danny upright by the elbow.

"Oh Danny," she whispered.

"Montana?" Danny's voice was heavily slurred and his glasses were dangling from his nose. "My Montana! What're _you_ doin' here?"

"I could ask you the same question," Lindsay scolded, catching his chin. His eyes rolled around wildly, attempting to focus on her.

"Aw Montana, don' be mad," slurred Danny, a goofy grin spreading across his features. "I was jus' tryin' to have some fun, but… but… wait, what was I sayin'? Oh! I love this song!" Lindsay doubted he had ever even heard it before. "Wanna dance Lindz?"

"Like you'd be able to stay on your feet," Lindsay muttered as he slipped sideways. She inspected his appearance quickly. His blonde-brown hair stuck up in complete disarray, and there was several days worth of stubble dotting his jaw line. He wore a soiled white wife beater and grey sweat pants which hung loosely on his dishevelled form. His normally brilliant blue eyes were glossed over, cloudy with inebriation, but with the tell-tale red rims which indicated that he had been crying recently. A pang of pain rippled through Lindsay's body; it hurt her to see him hurting like this. She swallowed the lump in her throat and spoke in a louder voice. "Come on Messer, time to go."

"Go? No, no, no, we gotta stay!" Danny gabbled, his eyes wide and frantic. He struggled to his feet, brow furrowed with concentration. "OK Montana, you stay here an' I'm gonna go get us some drinks. You like vodka, right? I like vodka. Vodka's good… It makes ya forget."

Danny took one faltering step, wobbled precariously and suddenly Lindsay realised what was about to happen a split second before it did. She leapt to her feet and grunted as she took most of Danny's weight in her arms, hating the bitter scent of alcohol on the breath that was tickling her face as he giggled hysterically. Her knees buckled and a groan slipped between her clenched teeth. As gently as she could, Lindsay slipped an arm around Danny's waist and eased his across her shoulder blades. She forced herself to look up into his unfocused eyes.

"Listen to me Danny, listen. I think you've had enough to drink, don't you? I'm going to bring you home now."

"Home," he repeated slowly, as though the idea was a foreign concept to him. A terrible expression crossed his face, one of unspeakable sadness. Lindsay realised that right now home _was_ foreign to Danny. Home meant happiness, and happiness wasn't possible for him. Not now.

With great difficulty, they limped forward, a strange, lopsided being. Danny was heavy, and in absolutely no state to help in the slightest. Lindsay just about managed to bundle him out of the bar unscathed, shushing whenever he said anything to another patron. Out on the street, Danny whispered conspiratorially in her ear.

"You smell good," he giggled.

"I really wish I could say the same about you."

Thankfully, a cab pulled up and Lindsay pushed Danny inside. He perked up for reasons unknown and began chatting to the driver as Lindsay leaned across to fasten his seatbelt.

"This is Lindsay Montana, but I call her Monroe… Hang on, that doesn' sound right. Does that sound right to you? My brain's gone all fuzzy, I can't… I can't…" he trailed off sleepily, his head lolling onto Lindsay's shoulder.

"Uh oh, don't go to sleep," Lindsay protested, nudging him. She knew from experience that getting the person sobered up a little before they nodded off was better in the long run. "Talk to me Danny. Come on, talk."

"But I wanna sleep!" he whined, sounding so pitiful that Lindsay almost acquiesced.

"I know sweetheart, but you can't. Not yet. Keep talking," Lindsay encouraged, patting his arm sympathetically. She took it as a goos sign that he didn't throw her hand off. "Talk about anything. Please."

"Okaaay… Um, I know I'm pretty crap at relationship stuff, but do you think Stella's in love with Mac? She looks at him sometimes an' I see… somethin'. God, I sound so gay! Flack'll never let me live this down if he finds out… I wonder where he gets those gross ties?" On and on it went until the cab pulled up. Danny peered out the window, confused. "I'm pretty sure this ain't my apartment block…"

"You're right. It's mine," said Lindsay, paying the driver and draping Danny's arm around her in a position that was fast becoming familiar.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why are we at your place?"

Lindsay sighed and reached up a hand to ruffle his hair. "It was closer," she lied, not wanting to bring up the sticky subject of Ruben Sandoval and how being in that apartment block would bring all the grief to the surface. "And your toothbrush is here already."

She extricated her key from her jeans pocket and hurried to dump Danny on the sofa. She straightened up, rubbing her neck and wiggling her shoulders.

"Huh. I really need to start working out more."

"Lindz, my head's spinnin'," Danny groaned, drawing his knees up to his chest. "Can I go sleep now?"

"Not yet, but soon," called Lindsay from the kitchen, pouring a large glass of water. Trying not to spill it, she hurried back to Danny. "Drink this."

Danny's mouth opened and she tipped the clear liquid inside. He drank like a child dying of thirst, slopping water down his already soiled shirt before flopping back, breathing heavily.

"Better?" Lindsay asked. He nodded weakly. "Good. Now what you need is a shower, it'll help sober you up."

"But I'm _tired_," he whined. "I jus' wanna sleep Montana."

"Come on," Lindsay groaned, hauling him to his feet. She felt awkward in the bathroom, helping him out of his clothes. The other stuff was fine, but this was too intimate. She'd seen… everything before of course, but the silence between them in the past few days had given rise to a tentativeness which made her avert her gaze as she stripped him of his navy boxers. She was silent as she pushed him under the stream of hot water, silent as she took soap and a loofah and scrubbed his back, silent as she stood shivering in her sopping wet underwear, helping him to towel himself dry. The silence crashed around her. The weight of it was crushing.

She led Danny into the bedroom they had shared once upon a time and deposited him on the bed, then slipped into her pyjamas, rung out her dripping wet hair and rooted out some of the things he'd left behind the last time he stayed over. It seemed so long ago now. She tossed the pants and t-shirt to him and waited for him to put them on. She sat in the chair by the window.

"Montana, are you mad at me?"

Lindsay looked up, surprised. She had assumed that Danny would have passed out by now. Instead he was propping his chin up clumsily on his elbows, slightly cross-eyed but with a serious expression on his face.

"What?"

"Are you mad at me?"

"No, of course not. Why- why would you think that?"

"You won't talk to me like you used to. And-and you're sittin' over there, an' you won't look at me an'- an' you _are_ mad at me." Danny sounded saddened, almost reproachful.

"Why were you drinking tonight Danny?" Lindsay asked, quickly changing the subject.

Immediately, she knew she had said the wrong thing.

Danny rolled over, burying his head in Lindsay's pillow. He made absolutely no noise, and if Lindsay didn't know better she would have thought he had finally gone to sleep. But Lindsay did know better. She knew Danny better than she knew anyone. Better than she knew herself. And she could see the almost imperceptible shaking of his shoulders, the tiniest tremors that would have gone unnoticed by anyone else. Her stomach plummeted. It was all the confirmation she needed that she still cared. She had thought she could be angry with Danny. Angry that he had pushed her away. Angry that he wasn't dealing. Angry that it felt like his grief for Ruben was extinguishing what he felt for her. But now she knew she couldn't do it. She really should have known as soon as the sight of his name on her cell phone screen caused her heart to skip a beat.

No, anger was not possible.

It was this epiphany that had her running to him, stroking his hair, kissing his exposed neck before she even realised she was doing it. Several long moments passed without the utterance of a single word. Then slowly, very slowly, Danny sat upright. Lindsay felt tears welling up in her brown eyes and had to bite her lip to stop them from spilling over. He didn't need to see her cry. It was hard, looking at what the world had done to him, but she willed herself to do it for him.

Danny's mouth sagged down at the corners. New lines ploughed furrows in his forehead. Spectacular purple bruises blossomed under his eyes and Lindsay wondered how long he'd gone without sleep. And his eyes… his eyes were past sadness. They were full of nothing but grief.

"I'm sorry," Lindsay murmured. "I-I wasn't thinking, of course it was because…" She trailed off, not wanting to say the name.

"S'okay. You didn't mean anything by it, right?"

"Never. I would never hurt you Danny. Um… how long is it since you've slept?"

"I can't," Danny whispered hoarsely. "I close my eyes, just for a second, and I see him. R-ruben. I just feel like- like I haven't got the right to remember him. That's why I got wasted. I know it was stupid, but I just wanted to forget. I shouldn't remember him. I don't deserve to. I killed him."

"No," Lindsay gasped. "You didn't. You-"

"I couldn't even get him home safe from the church, Lindz! It was the one thing I had to do, and I couldn't do it. I couldn't stop my stupid cop instincts long enough to bring that little boy home safe to his mom like I promised. I should've realised something was wrong, I should have made sure he was OK. Say what you like, I know the truth. I k- I kill- I killed him!"

His voice broke and the words hung harshly in the air between them. Then Danny's shoulders began to shake violently. A lone tear travelled the length of his cheek. It was the beginning of the flood. Sobs racked his weak frame. They weren't quiet sobs either, but the loud, agonised sobs of a tortured soul. Without thinking, Lindsay grasped him to her, rubbing her thumb in soothing circles across his collarbone, holding him as he buried his head in her shoulder. She whispered nonsensical words of comfort right in his ear. Silent tears trickled down her face as the man she loved cried away his guilt and his grief.

Then abruptly and with no warning, Danny pulled away from her. He crouched by the headboard, head in hands and muttering to himself. Lindsay reached out, but he cringed at her touch as though her fingers were wet with acid, not his tears.

"Don't touch me!"

"Danny, I just want to help-"

"You can't! You can't be around me. You can't love me."

"Danny, you're freaking out, and that's freaking me out. What are you saying?"

"I'm jinxed Lindsay, cursed. Everyone I get close to, bad things happen to them. Aiden, Louie… Flack got blown up, and now Ruben… It all comes down to me. I'm not letting that happen to you too. Don't you get it? If you don't get out now, I'll kill you too."

Lindsay whimpered, stung by this deranged delusion. "How could you possibly think that? Those things weren't your fault. It was messed up timing, that's all. Cursed? You? That can't be true. There are horrors in my past, things that haunted me for years, stopped me moving on with my life. I was just another screwed up small-town girl from Montana. And then I met you and… Everything changed! All the hate and grief built up inside me just sort of… went away. _You_ did that. You made me better. _You_, Danny. If you're cursed, then I'm cursed too. Cos you and me, we can't be separated. We're one. And I would never wish to have it any other way. You asked me earlier if I was mad at you. I wanted to be. I wanted to yell and scream and make you feel as betrayed as I felt. But I couldn't. You hurt me bad Danny. You pushed me away and it was the worst feeling ever. The feeling of not being wanted. I thought then, when I was at my lowest, that I could be mad. But all I can do is love you. Cos I know you weren't trying to hurt me. You were trying to stop me from hurting. But it's not up for discussion, Danny. I'm not going anywhere. I'm sitting here with you, and you're drunk and it doesn't matter! I'll still be here in an hour. I'll be here tomorrow. I'll be here when you're ready to talk about Ruben, and I'll be here on the days when you just want to curl up and wallow. I'll be here at the darkest of times. No matter what, I'll be here. I love you too much to just go because you've got some stupid chivalrous idea about saving me from you! I. Love. You."

Her breathing was coming in shallow pants. She had never been one for emotional outbursts. It took a lot more out of a girl than she'd expected. The full extent of her words crashed over her and a dull flush crept across her cheeks. How could she be so stupid? Danny had been emotional. He'd finally been about to open up properly about Ruben, and she had made everything about them. Love? How could Danny want her love right now? She had probably pushed him further away than he could push himself.

A hand took her chin, forcing her to look into those haunted blue eyes. She expected him to yell. She expected to see contempt in the blue depths. She did not expect the burning beauty she found.

"Thank you," Danny whispered, pressing his lips to hers. "I feel… not better, but more human. I think you're making a mistake standing by me, but I'm not stupid enough to try to stop you. Honestly, I've been resisting the temptation to call you all week. I just didn't want to involve you in this, I thought it would hurt you or upset you. But by pushing you away, I did that anyway. I never want you to go through that again. And I think I need you. I think you're the only thing that can help me get past Ruben. So thank you Montana."

"It's not going to be easy," Lindsay warned.

"It's never easy with me. Haven't you realised that yet?" said Danny, attempting to stifle a yawn.

"Alright, time for bed," Lindsay frowned, not fooled for a second. She pushed him down firmly under the covers, then went to her closet and found a spare pillow and blanket. The sofa was calling. Danny would want time alone. They could talk in the morning.

"Montana?" Danny's voice called from the bed.

"Yeah?" She turned in the doorframe to see that he was sitting up again.

"I-I'm scared to close my eyes. I can't sleep, not if I think I'll see him. He already haunts me when I'm awake; it'll be a thousand times worse asleep."

"Danny, you have to. You'll make yourself sick otherwise. I can get you as sleeping pill, there's some in the bathroom cabinet…"

"No, no pills. But can I ask a favour?"

"Of course."

"Don't sleep on the sofa. Stay with me."

"You sure?"

"Positive. Do you mind? It'd be nice to know you were there, beside me, if I got scared. But I understand if you don't want to. I mean, I've treated you pretty crap the past few days, and I'll probably talk in my sleep, and I know you hate that…"

"I said I'd be here, didn't I?"

She dropped the bedclothes where she stood and clambered in beside him. He lay with his back to her, and she curled her arms around him, intertwining her fingers with his. A small smile played on her lips as Danny's breathing evened out and the sound of his light snore filled the room. Lindsay had never been happier to hear it.

Tentatively, she reached up and brushed a stray strand of hair from his face. Danny twitched in his sleep and his hand shot up and caught hers. He held it against his clammy cheek like a child with a security blanket.

"Montana," he mumbled. "My Montana."

"You're going to be aright Danny. _We're_ going to get you through this. Together."

He didn't hear her, deep in sleep as he was. But he didn't have to. He already knew. They were Danny and Lindsay.

Lindsay and Danny.

Messer and Montana.

Montana and Messer.

And they would be just fine. His Montana would make sure of that.

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**A/N #2: So there you have it! Please tell me what you think. Did you like/dislike it? Is my writing style OK? General thoughts and comments… Then press that little button down there. Please!**


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